Cannot, cannot, cannot get enough of this band/album/song.
For six months I dealt Baccarat in a casino.
For six months I played Brahms in a mall.
For six months I arranged museum dioramas;
my hands were too small for the Paleolithic
and when they reassigned me to lichens, I quit.
I type ninety-one words per minute, all of them
Help. Yes, I speak Dewey Decimal.
I speak Russian, Latin, a smattering of Tlingit.
I can balance seven dinner plates on my arm.
All I want to do is sit on a veranda while
a hard rain falls around me. I’ll file your 1099s.
I’ll make love to strangers of your choice.
I’ll do whatever you want, as long as I can do it
on that veranda. If it calls you, it’s your calling,
right? Once I asked a broker what he loved
about his job, and he said Making a killing.
Once I asked a serial killer what made him
get up in the morning, and he said The people.
—“Vocation” by Sandra Beasley, from I Was the Jukebox
Drinking black coffee,
black coffee,
black coffee,
staring at the wall.
Hey, Millions, a #writespace for you. That’s a banker’s lamp, not Tinker Bell. That’s a white Penguin water-bottle. Those are stacks of books next to stacks of papers that will be soon be books.
oh yeah this is where I sit
Very, very exciting day. Congrats on this, Joe. Can’t wait to read it.
anyone could be
Even without the pigtails Grohl wears in the music video for the Foo Fighters release, I like this Nirvana-era solo demo for “Big Me” big time.
I once saw Etta James sing. She opened the concert with “At Last,” sang for two hours, then closed the concert with “At Last.” Both times were amazing. She was that good. RIP Jamesetta.
